


Colour Blind

by Kylo_Rens_9_pack



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: #Fluff?, #I apologize to colour blind people, #Lot's of colours, #So many colour metaphors, Colours, M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylo_Rens_9_pack/pseuds/Kylo_Rens_9_pack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are colour blind, a world of greys. Until you meet your soulmate. Colour is suddenly introduced to your world, and hopefully theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I got inspiration and wrote a Soulmate AU that I am proud of. Enjoy!

Colour Blind

Autumn, the beautiful array of dark, dull greys with light, slightly more muted greys layered over top of them. With a sprinkling of whitish greys. I’ve learned to accept this reality. The colour will never come, no matter how much my friends, all of whom have found partners, describe the colours to me. I never know what they’re talking about. “Well Dan, red is a warm colour...it’s aggressive and sexual.” Louise desperately tried to explain. How can a colour be aggressive? Or sexual? It’s a colour, it’s simply how something looks. It’s the spectrum of light the object doesn’t absorb. I don’t know what people are talking about. They’ve tried time and time again. Eventually they gave up, how can you describe a description? What is tall, short, wide, or colour? All my friends have found their soulmates. They see colour, they are happy. I’m happy too, I guess. A life of grey isn’t that bad actually, it’s fairly simple. Not having to worry about colours of things, just coasting through life on a greyscale rainbow. 

.  
I saw him, he had black hair, his skin was a wonderful porcelain with barely a blemish on it, and his eyes were blue. Wait, blue...I could see them. They were a bright blue, with swirls of green and specks of yellow. I could see colour, it was clear. Green, it was calm. Blue, it was creative. Black, it was poetic .Yellow, it was exciting. White, it was pure., Was this what people meant? It was like a sudden tidal wave crashed over me. Then I looked at his face, he had that same look.  
“Phil, do you see the colours too?”  
“Yeah, I do.”

 

Now, there is a problem here. He’s 4 years older than me. I’m 18, he’s 22. Mum will not approve. Even if he is my soul mate. She definitely won’t approve of the fact that for now, he’s just pixels on a screen. Out my window, an array of dark midnight colours. The only bright thing in my sight being the laptop screen, and the person on it. A man, who practically radiated colour. His laugh was yellow, his eyes held specks of blue, his words were green. He was colour itself. I knew he was looking through his window too, those bright eyes darting from star to star trying to pick out constellations. Now I can see why he’s had at least 10 girls ask him out in the past 2 weeks. He is beautiful, he is colour. I admire him for falling in love with greyscale. 

 

The colours brightened when I hugged him. I saw everything more vividly, the lady in a garish pink hat suddenly became much brighter. The man in the dull brown suit suddenly became duller and browner. I just couldn’t believe I was here, with him. His eyes are much more beautiful than they were over computer screen. The blues more vivid, it was slightly intimidating but comforting at the same time. To see those eyes, icy and warm at the same time. Those warm eyes turning into cold ice whenever someone so much as looked at us sideways. The ice melting when he looked back down at me, he said my eyes looked like coffee or hot chocolate. That they look warm and inviting but like they must be handled with care, for fear of damage. We’ve only been together in person for 3 hours and he’s already deeply analyzing my psyche through my eyes. 

Red is sexual, just like his lips. All over my neck. Now I know what Louise meant. It was gentle, but rough at the same time. Those warm eyes, now hot. Glossed over and half-lidded with lust. The pinkish spots, covering my neck and inner thighs were a symbol. He had marked me, I am his, and he is mine. Nothing can change that. 

Chaste kisses, over coffee. Just like every morning. I’ve gotten used to the colours. It took 5 years but I got used to it. The colours never dulled. They only got brighter. His eyes never changed, his hair, his skin, his height. But I still remember those icy, yet warm eyes from 2009. They still had the swirls of green, the specks of yellow. The dilated pupils that sometimes made his eyes look black. The colours never dulled, they never disappeared. I was happy, coasting through life on a full colour rainbow. This time, with a partner.


End file.
